Origins
by 62SG
Summary: On Planet Vegeta, over 100 years ago, a warrior named Sedu lived a fantastic, though tragic, life.  His actions would set forth the events of Dragon Ball Z. Sequel to Another Link in the Chain.
1. Discovery Part 1: The Enemy

"Caush, what is war?" asked the timid voice of Sedu, who was a mere eight years old. His brother, who was seated at the other side of the round, stone table, was drinking water from a roughly hewn cup. The thirteen-year-old put down his drink, wiped his mouth and leaned in closer.

"War is a test, to prove you worthy of power, "he whispered, though there was nobody in else in their house. "One who wins his power through war earns their power." He sat back in his seat. Sedu didn't get the idea, and asked another question.

"But some people get hurt in war, some even die…" he said quietly, though there was a hint of aggressiveness that Caush seemed to notice. His face tensed.

"You may not know this, but when we get hurt we get stronger, and…" he paused to think for a moment before continuing. "And when we die, we are lived on in honour."

Sedu clearly had trouble grasping this idea.

"Mommy died in war though, so how-" Caush leaned across the table again, so far that his torso was actually resting upon the rough surface. His hand was pressed over Sedu's mouth.

"That is different," he growled. "That was, she was…." his voice had become so hoarse from his sudden rage that he was unable to speak. He breathed deep and continued.

"She was murdered by a band of fools. That is different." He winced as the memories flowed back into full vibrancy. He was just 7 years old at the time, when he found her mangled body lying in the bushes not far from their simple home. Sedu was didn't remember, but Caush did. He remembered the still warm blood seeping from her wounds, her uniform reduced to threads. He remembered Sedu crying and his father screaming and swearing revenge. Their father knew who had done it; he saw the grisly crescent moon carved into her belly, which Caush caught a glimpse of before being pulled away by their father.

On a distant battlefield, amongst the carnage and gore, Zakri did what he does best: he fought. Already facing off against three opponents, he also killed any man who strayed into his path of destruction. His skill is amazing. Nearly twenty years of combat experience have left him with near super-natural skills. He is an expert, no, a master of guerrilla warfare. Tracking the enemy, engaging the enemy, and destroying the enemy, that was his mission…

Two of his opponents charged ahead. Zakri knew what they were doing. They were creating a distraction while the third snuck around behind him. They actually thought they could trick him. His mind flashed briefly to his training days, where he received instruction from the best soldiers who had fought in the very same war. The hours of drills had left every action to reflex, every situation was analyzed by the mind instinctively, and then the appropriate response was chosen subconsciously and executed, all within a split second.

When the two fools can towards him he dropped to crouch, rested on one leg while the other sent a straight kick behind him, tearing the clever soldier in half. Before they realized their ally was defeated, Zakri jumped on his one foot, landed on the other and swung a kick under one of his attackers, sending him to the mud. Stretching his arm behind him he blasted the last man standing to pieces, before cramming his fist into the chest of the only survivor, crushing his heart and lungs.

As the death rattles faded, Zakri heard a faint beep. Then another one. He looked down and saw the tiny black box that was strapped to his belt. Pulling his hand from his fallen foe's chest with a sick squelch, he grabbed the box and unhooked it. Judging from the urgent beeps he figured it was somewhat important, so he cast off into the sky. After his previous display of brutality, nobody tried to engage him.

Once airborne, Zakri scraped off the black tape that he was stuck to the display. He didn't want it to act up and alert the enemy of his presence if he was trying to be discreet. Underneath the tape, there was a green luminescent screen, a blinking red light and a tiny speaker. Now that it was uncovered, the beeping was surprisingly loud. He checked the display and saw an increasing power growing far from the battle. He glanced at his compass to check his bearings.

_Fuck, _he cursed in his head_, someone's at my house! My kids are there! Why can't I be left alone? You're at war with me, not my family. The last thing I need is another loss at home, _he screamed at The Enemy, the mental oppressors in his head. In his mind, he fought them in varied battlefields. Jungles, forests, the desert. They always found him, no matter where he went to try to get away.

When his house was in sight, he lowered his altitude to about 250 feet. He could see a strange red light spilling out through the windows onto the dark lawn. Zakri swerved around to the side of the house and dropped into the dense forests that lay on the perimeter. He crept through the bush, dropped to his stomach and crawled on his belly to the window, where he crouched silently. From his location he couldn't see inside the house, but he could hear a struggle. He closed his right fist and extended his index finger, middle finger and thumb, igniting a small yellow charge of ki on the tips of his fingers. In his head, he could feel the soldiers pressing in on him, trapping him, wounding him. As one particularly ugly one closed in, he jumped up and fired, both in his mind and in reality.

Firing rapid bursts of ki into the chest of the enemy, who was disintegrated, Zakri screamed with triumph. He laughed at the screams The Enemy made, until the illusions faded, and he saw his thirteen year old son being blasted by high-power bolts of ki, straight to the chest. The smouldering boy crumpled to the ground, with Sedu standing over him, glowing with a menacing red light.


	2. Discovery Part 2: The Denial

_**Many years ago…**_

In a darkened hall the size of a cathedral, sitting in an elaborate stone throne was King Kakarotto. He sat proudly and dignified, his arms resting on the great rock slabs that made the armrests. If he wanted, he could have ordered his men to open the sky lights and allow sunlight to stream into his throne room, but he enjoyed the peace of the darkness.

All peace was broken when he called out to the guards.

"Bring them in," he boomed. The tall doors at the end of the hall opened and three men, flanked by two guards, entered the room wearing thick, heavy chains.

The three prisoners looked weak. Though they all had considerable muscle, they cowered in the presence of the king. The one on the right bowed as he approached Kakarotto. The nearest guard grabbed him by the hair and pulled him back.

"Down bow to me scum," growled Kakarotto. "I don't need things like you in my Kingdom. What you did-"

"Please sir!" cried the one on the left. "We did nothing wrong! We were taunted!"

Kakarotto stood up and approached the prisoner. The King was six feet tall and towered over the short criminal. He raised a hand and slapped him, grabbed his scalp and yanked it, the chains around his neck pressing against his throat. The prisoner gurgled.

"You listen to me boy, you raped and murdered a woman. A mother. You have no rights, you are no longer a saiyan. You are shit, you are nothing!" he barked, spraying spit over the man's face.

"And do you know why you did this? I do…" He raised his other hand. "This is why!"

He grabbed his throat with his free hand and tore it off, the flesh snapping, blood spraying air escaped with a dull hiss. The man's eyes rolled up in his head.

"Look at this. Look at it!" screamed the King.

The prisoner managed to gain control of his eyes and look at his own throat clasped in the King's gloved fist.

"Its green… that's the only reason you're still alive. You may not know this, but Barban turns your blood green while it's effects."

"We-we never touched it!" screamed the other, yelling past the silent one at the King.

"Liar! Without it, you're friend wouldn't be alive." He nodded towards a guard at the end of the hall. The soldier hastily brought a bucket. The King threw the throat in the bucket, where it landed with a slap.

"Gotta save the parts, gotta make you look nice for your execution date." The King grinned. "Take them down to the dungeons, I want they prepared for the afterlife. Do a good job." The King watched as the prisoners were led out of the hall. Just as they reached the door, the middle man, the leader, who had been completely silent for the whole meeting, whipped around. His movement twisted the chains, putting huge pressure on his comrades and himself, but he ignored the pain. He snapped the chains, blasted the two guards then lunged down the hall towards the King.

Kakarotto laughed and shot the rebellious fool in the chest, his ki crackling as it struck his ribcage and forced the leader back to the door. He was unconscious, barely breathing, and was dragged out by the guards, while the other prisoners followed in tow. The King resumed his seat as the tall double doors slammed shut.

Out on the pillar of rock on which the King's Castle was built, the guards turned to the right and led (and dragged) the prisoners down the entrance stairs. They did not notice the young warrior Zakri pressed against the wall in the shadows of the large building.

After a full night and day of cornering scumbags in the city, interrogating the worst people, he finally got a hint that the ones who committed this heinous crime were arrested and taken to the Castle. It took him mere minutes to get there, and he waited patiently outside. When they were led into the Throne Room, took him every ounce of his will to hold himself back, to stop himself from tearing them limb from limb. But he controlled himself. He would make it worth while.

He crept slowly and silently, tailing them down to the dungeons. When he saw the last guard enter the chamber, he quickly ran and slipped through the closing door. He was standing on top of a staircase that ran down into the main Dungeon. He could see the three prisoners being lectured by the guards. Zakri crouched, ready to leap, just waiting for the right moment.

One of the guards pushed a prisoner against a wall. While his back was turned, Zakri pounced. He jumped on the back of the guard, grabbed him around the neck and twisted his head, snapping his neck and killing him. He kicked the other guard in the chest and tackled him, slamming him into the wall, compound his ribcage and crushing his lungs. Zakri grabbed one of the chain and pulled, yanking the legs of a prisoner and bringing him to the floor. Zakri stomped his neck, twisting his foot into the flesh. The grinding sound make his heart leap with joy. The wounded prisoner backed away, but was shot dead.

Having killed all but one, Zakri looked for the Leader. He must have regained consciousness, he figured. But that's a good thing. He's the one who will feel my pain. He's the one I want. He heard a jangle and whipped around. He saw the leader dashing up the stairs, his shackles dragging behind him. He bolted it out the door, escaping into the night.

Enraged, Zakri jumped up the stairs and dashed through the door. He saw the leader running up the stairs.

"Luce! I'm coming to get you!" screamed Zakri, who's face was twisted with madness. He charged up the stairs and quickly caught up to the weakened prisoner.

"Luce, you're gonna die…" he growled. "Slowly…"

Luce was unaffected by this. He didn't seem to care about pain. He laughed and tore his shirt off, revealing a huge scar shaped like a crescent moon.

_Present Day_

Zakri leaped through the window frame into the house. He grabbed Sedu and tried to pull him aside, but somehow he couldn't. He wasn't strong enough.

"Sedu, let me through…" he urged at his son. No reaction. Zakri let go of the child and hopped onto the table, slid to the other side and dropped to his knees. He examined Caush, who was smoking softly. He checked his heart and lungs. Aside from his combat training, Zakri was also a qualified medic. He was also a master of survival, languages and spacecraft.

"Son, you've been stunned. You'll be alright," he told Caush, who was barely conscious. He turned to Sedu. "Boy, I suggest you go to bed. Now."

Sedu turned and went to his room. Zakri watched him very carefully. He had seen the red aura, a sign of great power, before it faded when he entered the house. Zakri reached into a pouch on his belt and pulled out of tiny green pill. He pushed it in Caush's mouth and slapped his cheek, forcing it down his throat. The boy got up at once.

"Come outside, we need to talk."

"Huh? Alright," murmured Caush, who followed his father into the yard. Caush struggles on the dew soaked grass, still slightly dizzy.

"Now…" Zakri paused. He wanted to choose his words carefully. He paced for a moment. Caush knew that his thoughts were being invaded by The Enemy. No matter how many times he defeated them, they would always come back. Zakri never told either of his sons about his trauma, but Caush had read up on the war and what can happen to the people who fight in it. His father halted and faced him.

"Do you think your brother is… special?" he asked.

"Of course I do," replied Caush. "He's my brother."

"No, do you think he has special power?" Zakri narrowed his eyes.

"No, of course not. He's just a kid."

"I think he does. I think he showed us his powers tonight. I think you brought those powers out and revealed them to him."

"I don't think so. He was just a little angry. We had a disagr-"

"Bullshit. He's got something inside him. That boy is going to be a true warrior, unlike you." The insult stung Caush. He realized that he would no longer be his Dad's number one son. At least, until he could prove that Sedu had no powers. But how?

"Are you listening to me boy?" Zakri snapped, bringing Caush back to reality.

"Yeah, uh, what?"

"I said, I'm going to take him to my old comrade Dok tomorrow, to see if _he_ can find anything… unique, while you're at that retched academy."

And with that he turned and strolled into the house, leaving Caush alone in the dark.


	3. Discovery Part 3: The Hunt

The next morning, Zakri woke Sedu up nice and early. They silently left the house together, as Zakri didn't want to wake Caush and possibly cause a fit. Once outside, Zakri told Sedu their plans.

"Alright son, I woke you up today for a very important reason."

"Why?"

Zakri picked his words carefully. He didn't want to scare or anger his son.

"I think you are special, and I want to take you to the Doctor to see if you actually are." He picked up Sedu and put him on his back, piggyback style.

"Hold on tight," he warned, "I don't want you falling off when you can't fly."

Sedu ignored the usual warning. He was simply happy to be flying again. It was his favourite thing to do. He heard the loud roar of his father's ki pushing them off the ground, almost deafening, and just when he thought he couldn't stand the noise anymore, they were coast silently on air. He felt the pull of gravity yanking him down, but held on tight to his father's neck. They went higher and higher, until Zakri levelled out and they started heading East, to Base 196.

As they zoomed through the clouds, Sedu was screaming with laughter. He loved the sensation of flight. Zakri couldn't help but grin. His son's laughter made him feel whole again, as if there was no war, no killing. But as the base slowly came into view through the morning haze, that feeling subsided, and he was brought back to the harsh reality.

They dropped down at the main gate, where the guard was waiting.

"Name, position" the guard said in a brisk, monotone voice.

"Zakri, infantry."

"Business?"

"I'm taking my boy to the doctor."

"I'm gonna have to forbid that. There are plenty of private doctors in the city. I'm gonna ask you to take your business elsewhere."

Zakri was infuriated by this idiot's ignorance.

"Listen here boy; I've been in this organization for over twenty years. I have 9287 confirmed kills over those twenty years. I was in this army, killing for my King, while your draftee ass was being wiped by your mama. Don't tell me I can't see my doctor, don't send me away from here because I want my son to have the best health care he can get and I suggest you get out of my way, because I'm going in, even if I have to go through you."

As Zakri ended his speech he heard a quiet trickling sound. The guard stepped aside and let them in.

Zakri, still carrying Sedu on his back, strolled proudly through the base. Everyone he saw on his way to the doctor's tent either saluted him or said "Hi" before carrying on their way. This was Zakri's element, where there were people like him, who had seen what he'd seen and felt what he'd felt. He passed the Mess Hall, the Armoury, and the Barracks and headed straight for the small building in front of him. He knocked twice on the wooden door that was ordained with a small plaque "War Doctor". The door swung open immediately. The man who opened it was fairly thin, had a moustache and short, cropped hair, both of which were charcoal. His face was lined and he peered at Zakri threw tiny eyes.

"Hello Zakri," he said.

"Hello Dok," replied Zakri.

"Hi Dok!" waved Sedu, peering over his father's shoulder.

"Oh, hello Sedu. How are you?" asked Dok enthusiastically.

"I'm good," smiled the boy.

Dok chuckled.

"Taking your boy to the base now, eh?" laughed Dok. "Gonna make a soldier of him before puberty?"

"Actually, he's the reason we're here." said Zakri.

"Oh?" Dok pulled a pair of glasses from the pocket on his chest. He donned them and looked at the boy.

"You look like a goof," giggled Sedu. Dok chuckled too.

"Takes one to know one," he retorted as he peered at the boy. "Come into my office, and we'll have a good look at ya."

They entered the small room. There was a bed and icebox at one end, and there was a table of assorted medical tools. There was a frame on the wall that had six medals in it. Years back, Dok had been a soldier, and he was the best. He was older than Zakri, and he commanded him as well. They worked together seamlessly. There was true chemistry between them. Zakri stared at the medals, his mind racing. His heartbeat accelerated. He began to sweat. A tick was going in his eye. He felt trapped in this tiny office. He barely felt Sedu slide off his back or heard Dok making conversation with him. Memories came back, pushing him into a nightmare...

_**Years back...**_

Zakri had Luce cornered. Luce was standing at the edge of a sheer drop, thousands of feet. The moon on his chest aggravated him to no end. He couldn't stand it. He leaped at Luce, who grinned and stepped back, falling to his doom. Zakri was on his chest, peering over the edge. He couldn't see the body, it was too far down and too dark. Maybe, he thought, he had enough energy to fly to safety?

He pushed himself off the edge, soaring down to the tree line. His electric blue aura burned through the bush he streaked about, searching for the fool who crossed him. He searched wildly, tormented by the fact that Luce could be hiding in a bush just a few feet from him, and he would never know.

Deciding it would be best to take a more tactful approach to the hunt; he dropped to the ground, lowered his power, and began to creep through the bush. He kept a wary eye on the ground, looking for footprints, bent branches and broken leaves. After a little while, it began to rain. Water poured down on the forest, an advantage for Zakri. It would cover any sounds he made. He burst through a bush and saw two indentations in the mud. One was deeper and filled with water, while the shallower one had nearly no water in it. It was fresh. He estimated what direction the foot was facing, judging that Luce had run through, slid on the mud, made the print and bolted through the bush.

He examined the leaves, which seemed untouched. On some of them, the stalks had wrinkles, revealing that they had been bent down and released, creasing the stems. He unhooked his radio from his belt and made a call.

"Dok..." he growled into the mouthpiece. "Dok, come in."

"What is it Zakri? Over." crackled the tenor voice of Dok through the tiny, mud drenched speaker.

"Dok, I'm in the forest outside the Castle. The man, who murdered my wife, he..." his voice broke as he struggled to maintain composure. "I'm hunting him in the bush, and I need backup. Over."

"I thought he was arrested. Over."

"I... I tried to get him, but he got away. Over."

There was silence. The radio hissed, and Zakri thought that Dok had abandoned him. He lowered his head with disappointment. He knew he had broken the law, and he didn't know if Dok would follow him.

"Zakri!" Dok's voice burst out of the speaker. "Give me your location, and I'll head right over. We'll get this bastard. Over."

Zakri smiled and looked up at the stars, gleaning his position.

His loyal comrade Dok was with him in the bush, hunting together. It seemed that the effects of Barban were wearing off; Luce's movements were becoming easier to track. He was getting sloppy. They trounced through the wilderness searching, following the clues.

"Look," whispered Dok as he pointed at a cluster of trees a few feet away. Zakri looked closer, and saw the exhausted Luce crouched in the shadows of the trees, looking out for Zakri, though he didn't see them.

"It's him…" Zakri couldn't control himself any longer. He slunk around the other side of the trees, crept behind him and grabbed the scumbag around the throat in a chokehold, crushing his oesophagus.

"I could kill you right now," whispered Zakri, barely able to keep calm. "I could kill you, and end it all. But for what you did… You need more."

Dok crashed through the bushes.

"I think I can be of assistance," he said as he grinned at Luce, whose eyes shone with fear.

_**The Present...**_

"Well, I don't see anything wrong with him," announced Dok as he patted Sedu on the head. "He's a perfectly normal boy."

Zakri snapped out of his nightmare.

"What? Really?" He couldn't believe it. He was so sure, positive, that Sedu had something special in him.

"Yes, completely. You have nothing to fear," said Dok with a smile.

Zakri sighed.

"Thanks Dok."

"No problem. Take care." Dok waved them out and watched them go. He turned as they reached the gates, and heard a small boom. He grinned and closed the door.


	4. Discovery Part 4: The Dreams

Sedu was sleeping soundly in his bed. The house was at peace, no one was awake. All was quiet. He shivered slightly in his sleep as he slipped into his dream world. He was crawling through the bush, in some strange jungle. Its was incredibly humid, the air dense, perspire forming on his face, dripping down like bullets to the ground, boring holes into the dirt. He stumbled over roots, desperate to reach his destination. He didn't even know where he was going, but something told him he had to go there.

At last, he burst through the growth and came upon a clearing. There was a tall, stone pillar that stretched for an eternity. Different symbols were carved into its surface, as well as ornamental patterns and geometric shapes. He looked at the tower for a moment, before glimpsing a strange golden light in the forest beyond it. Curious, Sedu followed it.

He forced his way through the branches, but he could never get closer to the light. It would always float away. The heat of the jungle was taking its toll; Sedu was having difficulties breathing. Just when he was about to give up, drop down and die in the forest, the trees gave way. They were blasted away by an unseen force, and they shattered, one by one. Looking ahead, Sedu saw, to his horror, Caush and Zakri in a horrible fight. They were beating on each other, blasting huge amounts of ki. Blood was spraying everywhere, they were screaming. It was awful. Then, the gold light revealed its true nature. It split into two ghouls, both of them glowing. They fell upon Sedu's family, and tore them to pieces. Blood poured in a crimson cascade of pain and suffering. The monsters heard his screams, and they swooped down, grasping him, holding him high in the muggy air. A castle broke through the ground and rose up before Sedu, who struggled against the other worldly bonds that held him. The doors swung open, revealing King Kakarotto lying dead, blooding pouring from the wound in his chest.

The ghosts pulled on Sedu's limbs. He screamed in agony as he was pulled to pieces. He jumped out of bed, shaking and still screaming. He puked over the floor and crawled out of the room. He made his way to his father's room, opened the door and approached his father's bed. Zakri was sleeping, though he too was restless. Sedu curled into the bed, resting with his beloved dad.

_**The Past...**_

A sick slap echoed off the stone walls, fading with each repetition. Just as the first vanished another succeeded it, this time followed by a mild groan.

Zakri stood, panting, watching the bruised criminal Luce bleed. The criminal is tied to a chair, bound tightly in cords. His long, thin, greasy black hair is hanging over his face. He stared at his torturer through bloodshot eyes, and was slapped again. Spit flew from his dry lips, and he looked for a moment at Dok, who simply grinned at him.

"Do what you want, it makes no difference," taunted Luce. "You can't undo what I've created. It's imp-" Zakri punched him, knocking out two teeth and sending his head back, cracking his neck.

"Shut up... just shut up!" screamed the tormented warrior. He hung his head. A though sneaked into his head, and formed a sly smile on his face. "Do you know what was announced by King Kakarotto today?" He chuckled uncontrollably. "Barban, you're precious Barban, has been banned! Your power is gone, your advantage lost. However..." he laughed more. "My comrade Dok, who you see beside me, he still has a case of the stuff. He rendered the leaves into a liquid, and has agreed to supply me with some for my own amusement." No emotion showed on the scarred face of Luce. He simply watched Zakri withdraw a thin glass vial filled with green fluid from a black box. Zakri looked at Luce, then slashed him viciously across the chest without warning, using a large surgical blade brought by Dok. Luce yelped as the wound was opened and thick, red blood flowed down his chest. Zakri cracked open the vial and rubbed some of the green liquid into the wound, which healed immediately.

"I've given you just enough Barban to sustain you... for now. You will not lose consciousness, and you will not break away. Attempting to escape will result in your immediate capture and more pain." He gripped the handle tightly and slowly dragged it across the moon shaped scar, distorting it. Green blood flowed from the new cuts. Luce screamed.

Zakri tortured Luce with the blade for hours, occasionally administering more Barban. He used the razor sharp cutting edge to slice segments of skin, using the narrow point to dig in the flesh and pry off parts of the skin, peeling Luce, who screamed endlessly. The now hoarse sounds gave Zakri some satisfaction; he knew he was succeeding with his plan, to give Luce as more pain then he had ever experienced.

He flipped the knife over and pressed the serrated edge against Luce's shoulder. They're eyes locked, and Zakri began to saw. Blood poured as tendons snapped, the heavy metal blade tearing through skin and muscle, and was chewing through the bone. Luce screamed in agony as his body was mutilated. When Zakri paused, he slackened in his seat, breathing heavy.

The hours wore on into days. Luce hung from the bunker ceiling, his arms shackled and bolted to the roof. His feet bound to the floor, he was pulled taught, while no possible movement. Blood covered the floor; it had slowly accumulated from the massive damage performed on Luce's torso. He was pale, his muscles sagged from prolonged use of Barban. He barely screamed when stabbed by the thick blade. Fresh, green blood oozed slowly. Barban pushed his bones further, making them grow and stretch out of proportion, distorting his figure and allowing more blood to be produced. Zakri dropped his knife with a clatter.

"Enough of the blade work," he growled. "Time for some shock therapy." He charged ki into his hands, causing them to glow and spark. He focused his energy into the electric range of the ki spectrum, allowing him to shock his prey without burning them all to the ground. He allowed some of his power to escape his mental bindings, leaping forwards to toy with the nearest target. Luce gasped as he was shocked by the electric energy. Zakri intensified the blasts. More screams erupted when parts of the victim's body bubbled as his organs boiled inside him, bursting through the skin, splashing the walls with a gory paint. Some of the skin turned black around the edges, emitting a vile stench that made Dok cover his face with some cloth. Zakri cackled insanely as Luce begged for him to stop, finally broken by his continual Hell. He closed his black eyelids and fainted.

Zakri woke up, covered in cold sweat. He looked around, watching the blood and guts fade from the walls, felt his soaring, adrenaline fueled power subside, and listened as his cruel laughter and screams of enemies faded. The room was dark and completely silent, except for the soft snores of Sedu. He peeled himself off his moist sheets and pulled himself out of bed, taking care to not wake his son. He glanced out the window. _Otim_ was missing from the sky, and _Pax_ was a few degrees over the horizon. He concluded the time from these factors, and decided to get a start on the battle. He knew his orders, and would go straight to the fight. He donned his armour, which, like most of his gear, was designed by himself, and power radar, then launched out the door into the depths of war.

"Sedu! Sedu wake up!"

Sedu heard an urgent voice brimming with excitement, and felt light, playful shoves. He opened one eye a crack and peeked at his assailant. He saw the slightly blurred silhouette of Caush, who was desperately trying to shake him awake.

"Quickly Sedu, I have an idea."

Casting his charade of sleep into oblivion, Sedu groggily replied.

"What is it?" He looked around, realizing his location. "Wait, where's Dad?"

"Thats what I'm getting too," said Caush as he poked his brother, forcing him wide awake. "He's gone off to a battle. I want to go watch."

"Wha- Caush, you know Dad doesn't let us go near the battles."

"Oh come on," whined Caush very dramatically, frustration seeping into his voice. "It'll be interesting to see how it all works. Everything I'm learning put in action" His eyes flashed at the prospect.

Sedu considered it. On the plus side, adventure was fun. On the minus side, he could get in trouble, he could get killed and, well, the bed was comfy.

Caush glared at him.

"Get out of bed or I'll beat the shit out of you," he threatened maliciously. Sedu quickly complied. He stretched his small black day suit on and pulled the boots over his feet. After donning his gloves, he was ready for a day out in the sun. Though he was still unable to fly, Caush had passed the basic course and knew some basic techniques. He carried his little brother by piggyback, and shot into the sky, towards the flashes and bangs of the war zone.


	5. Discovery Part 5: The Conflict

Zakri examined his unconscious prey. He examined the wounds he created: the burns on the navel, the deep cuts from the shackles on his wrists and ankles, the shoulder that had a crevice cut by a saw. His eyes darted up to the calm face and its closed eyes.

"Administer more Barban," he said stoutly. Dok looked at him in disbelief.

"Are you mad? You've given him too much already," he protested. "He could break away if you give him that much."

Zakri waived the warnings.

"If he truly had anywhere near enough Barban to break free, he wouldn't have fainted. Its a stimulant, Dok, not a sedative." He looked back at the prey "He's weak."

"He could be feigning, waiting for you to give him more of what he wants!" countered the agitated Dok, shouting now. He wasn't about to risk his life to satisfy the sadistic needs of a lower ranking soldier. Disgusted by his friend's lack of interest, Zakri tried to get to the vials of Barban sitting on the counter. Just as he reached for them, his ally stuck his arm out, stopping him.

"I won't allow it," said Dok sternly. "You are my underling, and you _will_ follow my orders." Zakri looked up at the taller warrior, hatred forming a dam in his mind, blocking his memories of friendship. "I'm asking you nicely not to try this. Please Zak, don't do this. Think of your kids." Zakri glared at him, then pushed him aside. He loaded one of the vials into a needle-pointed gun, which would inject the serum. He briskly crossed Dok, who looked on passively, though clearly frustrated.

Zakri jabbed the needle into the wasting flesh and through the ribs, injecting liquid power directly into his heart. He emptied the vial, the largest dose he had given the prisoner. The muscles had started squirmed even before he withdrew the needle. It was an odd sight: A man tied by his hands and feet to the ceiling and floor, unconscious, looked like he had mice running under his skin. Muscles bulged as veins pumped blood and Barban, a deadly mix. Every muscle flexed, every sinew repaired itself. And yet, Luce remained sleeping. Confused, Zakri jumped to the first conclusion he could make: he had developed a tolerance for the chemical, and needed more to get that boost.

"I'm giving him another shot," stated Zakri as he returned to the box. This time Dok was more aggressive. He grabbed Zakri by the shoulders and forced him back.

"No. He's had enough."

"Not yet he hasn't. I want him awake so he can feel his pain," snarled Zakri.

"Then try a different way, instead of pumping chemicals into him," reasoned Dok.

"Fine," muttered Zakri. "Lets cut him loose. The fall should wake him up." He withdrew his knife and started sawing at the binds hanging from the ceiling. He was halfway through the chain when Dok said "No."

Zakri looked at his buddy. "What did you say?"

"I said no. You won't do this," forced Dok. "I order you to desist immediately."

Zakri chuckled.

"How are _you_ gonna stop _me_? You have no authority over me." he sneered. Dok straightened his arm, pointed at Zakri with his index and middle fingers.

"Anyway I can." He was glaring at his friend, who's eyes darted back and forth from Dok's face and indifferent expression to his fingers. Sweat started to trickle down his face.

"You can't do this... I'm a hero!" he roared.

"Too late," said Dok simply as he fired two bolts of ki from his fingers. One hit Zakri in the chest, the other hit him in the right kidney. He fell to the ground, clutching his wounds. Blood poured through his fingers. Luce lifted his head, opened his eyes and laughed. Dok tried to shoot him, but he tugged the weakened chain and dropped to the floor. He pulled his legs towards him, breaking the chains and prying his feet free. He punched Zakri with a bloody fist, then began firing blasts of ki at Dok. He leaped across the room to the Barban stash and ate the remaining three vials, glass and all. His muscles creaked and groaned as he grew. His long hair seemed to diminish, though it was simply smaller in contrast to his enlarged skull, which was malformed and lumpy. Dok fired several more shots at him, which simply disintegrated on contact with his skin. Luce stared at the valiant warrior.

"Fool..." he growled in a booming voice. "You're lowly attacks can never harm me!" He lunged at Dok and threw a wide punch that connected with his temple, knocking him to the ground. Dok flipped back and readied for a fight with the seven-foot-tall monster, who made a violent slash with his arm, sending a sharp wave of ki at the soldier.

"Shit, this guys tough," Dok said in an almost comical understatement. "I'll have to retreat for now and come back with reinforcements. I just hope Zakri can survive 'til then..." He whispered the last sentence, then blasted the door open and dashed away into the forest. Luce watched him go, then returned to finish Zakri, deciding that the fool who had tortured him would pay in more than blood.

Thousands of feet above the war, perched on an outcrop of rock, Sedu and Caush stared down at the massacre below them. From their height, the massive battle was a black mass, from which vibrantly coloured flashes burst and erupted. They both knew their father was down there, but felt vastly different about it. Sedu was overtaken with anxiety, while Caush was confident in his father's skill.

"Well well well, what do we have here?" said a mocking voice, cutting across Caush's daydreams. The boy looked up and saw three saiyans hovering just beyond the edge of the rock. The one who had spoken stared at Caush, a lopsided grin splashed across his ugly, pig-like face.

"What are two kids like you doing here? This is for grownups," his sneer covered by a thin veil of kindness.

"W-we were just, uh, r-relaxing in the sunlight," stammered Caush, scared out of his wits. These burly warriors were tough, and a lot of the soldiers had reputations of cruelty.

"You're suit bears the crest of our allegiance. Therefore we won't throw you from this cliff. But we aren't babysitters! Get out of here!" he shouted and turned away from them. Just as he had started to glide down to the battle, his colleague called to him.

"Hey Beat! This one looks like he might be Zakri's kid!" Caush froze with fear, any brief relief draining from his body. Beat stopped and whipped around. He shouted up at his ally.

"I doubt it, Zakri doesn't support our cause!"

"This suit is from the Academy, his kid is probably enlisted. And the other one looks like him too!"

Beat shot back to the rock. He looked first at Caush, then at Sedu.

"Heh, so it is. We've found his kids. Maybe now we can have some fun... and justice." As he said these words his hand slid up to his left eye, which was masked by a leather patch. He lifted his foot then drove it into Sedu's face. He heard a crack as the child's nose shattered, and he laughed sadistically.

His face in the dirt, Sedu didn't look up at his attacker out of fear. Instead, opening his eyes a fraction, he looked over and saw he brother being beaten by the two other soldiers. This horrific vision was interrupted when he felt Beat stomp his back. He coughed blood, which mixed with the dirt and made a disgusting paste.

Sedu could feel his anger growing, the feeling of being powerless, of being trapped. He felt ready to burst. Just when he though he could take no more, an angel appeared.

"So, you want to play around with my kids, beat my kids? You want to start trouble, hunt your 'justice'?"

All three saiyans turned around. Zakri had found them, his eyes blazing.

"Za-Zakri..." Beat stammered in fear.

"You did this to get to me. Well, now you have me. Make a move." Nobody responded. "Make a move!"

One of the soldiers snapped. He bolted forwards, charging Zakri, who delivered a crushing punch to his forehead. He grabbed the stunned soldier by leg and swung him high above them, where he was blasted immediately. As one soldier's remained rained down upon them, Beat was second to fight. He too came straight ahead, no regard for defense, and was stopped by an uppercut to the stomach. Zakri's hand broke through the armour, crushing his stomach. He then elbowed the wounded saiyan in the back, sending him down to the battlefield. One saiyan remained. Instead of following his comrade's example, he flew straight up into the sky. He was grabbed from behind, put into a choke hold by the soldier.

"You're a quick one aren't you?" gasped Zakri, his throat constricted by the meaty arm.

"Not as quick as me," growled Beat. He was hovering before Zakri, a sinister smile on his face. "I've waited a long time for this." Zakri struggled against his captor. "If you break free, we will kill you with a shot through your heart. I've waited a long time for this, and I don't want to waste my chance." He opened his hand, his fingers out stretched and pushed it in Zakri's face, one inch from the tip of his nose. A green spark of ki appeared, followed by a loud hum.

"Kanishdio!" he screamed as blast after blast fired from his hand, straight into Zakri's face. His head was quickly swallowed in smoke and he emitted no scream, but his legs twitched. Seconds passed like hours. Beat cackled with glee as he lived his fantasy, his dream.

"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!"

A high pitched scream spilled out of Sedu's mouth, raging across the land and through Beat's soul. He stopped his attack and turned. Sedu was surrounded by a blazing red aura. His muscles bulged and quivered as he glared at Beat with empty eyes.


	6. Discovery Part 6: The Pain

With the high shriek of a panther Sedu charged forward, propelled by the rush of his anger and desperation, blood flowing from his nose. Beat had no chance, no time to react as he is struck head on by the miniature rocket. With a loud crack the cruel warrior's ribs collapsed and snapped as he was forced away from Zakri. The boy's aura emitted a powerful heat, burning the tattered uniform and skin of his target. Just as quickly as they came, the crimson flames burned out, blowing away in a gust of wind, leaving the powerless Sedu to fall.

Caush, back pressed against a rock, kept his distance, too stunned to move. His brother just saved their father, as well as himself and his brother, from certain death. And now he would die because he didn't have the power to fly. Shame washed over him, heat rose in his face. His father had been right

As Sedu soared through the air in a graceful arc, apparently unconscious, Zakri's eyes snapped into focus. He darted towards Sedu, clutching him by the cuff of his one-piece suit. He tossed the boy onto the ledge, to safety.

"Get him out of here..." Zakri growled to his eldest son. "And never doubt me again."

Caush took the boy and flew off. His sons gone, he turned his attention to Beat, who was barely conscious.

"So, you thought you'd ambush me, pull a cheap shot?" Beat's eyes widened with fear and trembled as the wounded saiyan pressed upon him his rage and disgust. "You failed," spat Zakri as he grabbed him by the throat. His eyes bulged from their scarred sockets. "Now, time to die!" With a howl, a yell of victory, Zakri released a jettison of ki into Beat's throat, blowing out the back of his neck and separating his head and body. Zakri watched them and the cluster of gore fall into the squirming pit of battle before heading off, flying a fair bit slower than normal, in the opposite direction of his children. He had a new agenda.

Zakri groaned. He didn't want to open his eyes, he was afraid of what he would see, what he set lose. The nails driving through his hands and into the wall behind him were as rigid as they were two hours ago, completely unmoving. How did he let himself be captured by this... this monster? Fear bubbled upwards in his chest. His two sons were still home, alone, now that their mother... Was revenge worth it? His warrior instinct, his own monster created by those years in the camp, battled the fear, killing it, forcing it down into the bowels of his gut.

The monstrous Luce circled him, he knew it. Zakri could smell the sick perspiration sliding down the beast's skin.

"Open your eyes," hissed his captor. He kept his eyes shut, pulling his eyelids together so tightly he felt they could tear. "Open you're eyes or I'll tear them from your face!" His voice shook with frustration.

_I have to resist, I can't let him win._ The warrior kept his eyes closed, prepared to face his fears. He knew what was coming. Letting loose the horrors of his rage, characterized with an almighty roar, Luce's hands shot forward, clumsily clutching at Zakri's face, clawing and tearing at it. Zakri felt the hot breath and heard the frustrated grunts, smelled the blood leaking down his own face as the sharp claws of his enemy dug into his tough, leathery skin.

Zakri let out no sound as Luce tore at his eyelids, stretching them and ripping them. Blood leaked profusely into his unprotected eye, and even as the left ones were removed he still held the right tightly shut.

"Is that all?" he sneered at his torturer. Bravado helped with the pain. "I expected more from a _monster_ like you."

With his one open eye, through the red veil of blood, he saw a large, fuming tower of muscle. A hand shot forward and violently tugged on his eyelid until it tore away with a disgusting snap.

"All the better... to see me with..." panted Luce. Zakri appeared to be crying, but his tears were of blood, not water. He grinned, masking his suffering.

"Thank-you," he grunted. A sour expression grew on Luce's face. "Now I can face my fears and not hide behind my own flesh. Hell, now that I've gotten a good look at ya, you don't seem so tough." His insult bought him a sharp strike across his cheek, breaking the every blood vessel in left side of his face.

"Speak to me like that and I'll do much, much worse!" shouted the now twitching convict. His hands shook and jerked as he spoke.

A possible weakness, noted Zakri. A plan was forming in his mind, a small seed of knowledge planted in the earth of his genius.

"You hit like a girl!" he barked with both hatred and disappointment (which was very carefully slipped into his tone). "Come on, show me your good stuff. Coward," he spat as an after thought. Luce's drug addled mind couldn't process reality. A prisoner taunting him, teasing him. Didn't he realize the power he held? He slapped on hand over Zakri's mouth and pried it open. He would stop the insults himself. Forcing his other hand into his prey's open mouth, he got a firm grip on it's tongue. The moment it had been waiting for.

When Zakri was younger, when he first signed up for the army, he was not the same person. When he joined the academy, Zakri was young, fresh and whole. He sat through the various lectures, but paid no attention. He was in it for the money. With much pleading to the Board, he was given a uniform. The tight black suit provided no warmth or protection, but it left him flexible. With more courage than brains he leapt out into raging battle furiously, screaming obscenities and threats. Within two minutes he was shot down by a random enemy. The last thing he can remember of the incident was the vibrant orange beam streaking towards him. All after that is darkness. He woke up in the hospital, and was told he would be out of commission for three weeks. While recuperating, he passed time by chatting with the old soldier in the next cot over. The man told him that war was not a game, and courage alone wouldn't get you through it. You needed to survive, you needed to be stronger, meaner and smarter than the enemy to destroy them.

After his wounds healed, Zakri went back to school. Motivated by his new outlook, he gave his greatest attention to his Professors. When he could perform the tasks set out in the curriculum of Basic Warfare blindfolded, he quickly signed up for other courses. His passion made him a favourite among the Board, and he excelled in his classes. He stayed up late into the night reading on the psychology of Saiyans, and how they are transformed by war, as well as studying Math, History and Science. Within three years Zakri had amassed such a vast expertise and base of knowledge that he was commonly referred to as a Master of warfare, despite having only two minutes of combat experience.

As he trained his mind he trained his body. He transformed himself into a powerhouse, a machine of unworldly strength. Though he was below the average height of a soldier, Zakri still had no trouble wounding the many classmates he insulted for practice. One trick he picked up was not always useful, but it was in some cases. This is one of them.

As Luce pulled on his tongue, Zakri snapped his jaw shut with a crunch on Luce's hand. He had worked hard to build up muscle in his jaw and had filed his teeth into razor-like blades of bone. His fangs bore through the flesh of Luce's hand, slicing the skin, cracking bones and drawing blood. Luscious blood. The taste of Saiyan flesh brought back flashes of memories from years ago. He could feel it empower him. Luce screamed and struggled to pull his hand away, but Zakri would not release him. Shaking his jaw he felt and heard the snaps of several bones. He slackened his jaw and felt the hand slip away. Luce cursed him and retreated from the room, into what he assumed was the lavatory. Satisfied, Zakri licked the Barban infected blood from his lips and set to work on his restraints.

Dok flashed the meek guard a grim look and passed through the iron gates without a word. He limped slightly as he walked, and was leaning on a tree branch for support. He turned into the tent on the right and threw a chip of metal on the table. His badge, proof of his involvement in the military, lay before four high-ranking officers. They looked at him with a piercing look of interrogation.

"What happened, Dok?" asked the furthest to the right, the greyest of the bunch.

Over the next ten minutes Dok told them everything. Of how Zakri went after Luce and his men, how he murdered the guard and how they, together, hunted Luce like an animal and tortured him. He revealed how he fed the illegal drug to the prisoner, shot down his comrade and was responsible for Luce getting free.

After he finished there was a beat of silence, until the officer seated to the left spoke.

"Dok, the acts you have participated in are beyond even the ferocity of the Saiyans. You will be stripped of your ranking. Report to my office tomorrow for further punishment and reassignment."

"Yes sir," complied Dok. As he stepped outside of the tent, the officer who had spoken before asked him a final question.

"Where is he?"


	7. Discovery Part 7: The Beginning

A drop of blood seeped from a half-closed fissure gouged into Zakri's forehead. The drop sparkled like a treasured jewel as the light of the two setting suns reflected off it's glassy surface. It glided smoothly over the leathery flesh and wove through the strands of the bushy eyebrow beneath it. It emerged from the forest slightly smaller and slipped onto the eyeball. With no eyelids to bat away this intruder, and arms too weak to brush it aside, Zakri admitted defeat and allowed the precious fluid to spread over the surface of his eye, ignoring the sting, and waited for the coming tear to wash it away.

He never felt a shame such as this. Allowing himself to fall into the clutches of that idiot and destroying nearly everything he had built over the last several years made his face turn red, and his heart black with pain. After trying so hard over the past 7 years, he was being forced back into this...

Zakri's heart pumped the small trace of Barban through his veins and into his muscles. Seconds later new found strength pulled him into a firm mindset as his heart beat stronger and louder. He pulled his arms forward and waited for the nails that held him to the wall to budge just an inch. He didn't have long before that thing would return. Forcing every ounce of his will into his arms he felt the slimy spikes give half an inch. The wounds on his hands tore and fresh blood trickled, lubing the spikes. Zakri pulled again, this time to more effect. With a slurp his right hand pulled away from the wall, pulling the nail out of the stone. He watched the bloody spike slip out of his hand and fall to the ground with an echoing clatter. Zakri heard an agitated grunt in the other room, and he heard a low shuffling, as if a bulky giant was moving in a cramped space. Paralysed for a second or two, he quickly began work on the other hand

"What is this noise!?" growled Luce as he lumbered into the room. Time seemed to stand still as Luce stared at the half-free Zakri, then quickly sped into high speed as the devil lunged for the determined soldier. Instincts taking over, powered by the inner code "above all, survive" that was engrained into every soldier's mind, Zakri instantly freed his left hand with a splatter of blood. It shot forward and slapped against Luce's forehead. Feeling his mutilated hand being compounded into his wrist, Zakri rolled to the side and let the massive beast crash into the stone wall with a thud. Backing away from his stunned torturer, Zakri felt a strange urge. His common sense was being overridden by another conscience. To his own surprise, Zakri charged at the disoriented monster and took prompt advantage of the beast's weakness. Luce was bowled over by a body charge and beaten with bloody hands. Zakri's new aggression wasn't enough to hold him however and Luce locked his gnarled hands together and swung from the shoulders, breaking Zakri's nose beneath the behemoth's paws.

Luce growled and looked down at his prey. He raised his foot above Zakri's head, teetering on his left leg. The smaller warrior looked up in disbelief and horror. Seconds passed, and fear faded into confusion. There was a loud pop, and Luce's eyes rolled up into his head, leaving a snow white stare. The twelve foot monster fell forward and landed on top of Zakri, who's aggression and power had left as quick as they came. He nervously checked the giant's pulse. It was dead. He tried to push the corpse off him, but it was too heavy and he was too weak and injured.

"How can I get out of here?" he thought out loud.

The power is in his blood, said a raspy voice in his mind. Take his blood, and you will be given his power...

"No! I won't! I refuse to resort to that!"

You already have, before, replied the voice.

"That was different, that was life and death! This is-"

Don't you realize? Dok is going to come back with the army. Don't you see what's happened? What's going to happen? You've attacked Imperial Guards, you've taken a prisoner, you've tortured him and you have allowed him and yourself to consume illegal narcotics. They are going to come at you hard, and destroy you, lock you away and put your children in the work camps. Is that what you want? Is that what she would have wanted?

"But..."

Is it?!

Resigned to his fate, Zakri tilted his head and bit into the corpse's shoulder. Cold, green blood trickled out, and he lapped it up with at first reluctance, then with eagerness and joy. He felt the poisoned blood slowly flow into his own and take effect, felt his muscles contract and grow. His wounds began to heal, and he found himself with new strength. He trembled slightly as he pushed on the giant's body and rolled it off him.

He lay there for a moment, lost in the reality of his situation. He didn't feel the ground trembling beneath him, or hear the oncoming stampede of soldiers until they burst through the wall. Zakri leapt to his feet, but it was too late. He was wrestled by three muscle-bound guards, who held and shackled him. He tensed as they wound thick, brass-coloured chains over his body, binding him tightly and disabling any movement. He did not resist.

"Zakri of the East," boomed a great, deep voice. King Kakarotto stepped through the throngs of his guards.

"You are under arrest for murdering two royal guards, killing two prisoners, assisting the escape of a third, conspiring against the monarchy, possessing illegal Barban, torture, attempted murder of a fellow soldier, killing a convict and indulging in Barban. You will be locked away for-"

"What!? It was for my own defence! You cannot arrest me on such idiotic charges!" protested Zakri.

"I can do what I please, and I will arrest you. You will be locked away in a facility far away, and your children will be taken into the custody of the Monarchy."

"No! You can't... I won't let you!" He struggled against his bonds, fighting the chains and guards who held him. He was finally silenced with a hard strike to the face, leaving him with a broken nose. Zakri spoke sombrely, through the blood that poured into his mouth.

"Who... did this? Who... and why?" Zakri already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear the King say it, to cement his treachery.

"We cannot say.," replied the King. It didn't matter to Zakri. It was just further reason to cripple his betrayer.

The servants dragged Zakri through the mud. They would drag him all the way to the compound, where he would rot in his cell

King Kakarotto looked down at his prisoner, and whispered "I'm sorry" before taking flight, leaving him at the mercy of the guards.

"You have suffered extreme neurological damage from repeated trauma to the head," stated Dok as he prodded Zakri's arms. Zakri nodded by raising his head slightly from the uncomfortable pillow.

"Your right leg and left arm have been affected by this. We don't know the extent of the damage for some time, but it could range anywhere from slight twitching to full-on paralysis..." He hesitated. "You will likely be in pain for the rest of your life."

"Thanks for reassuring me Dok," coughed Zakri. He turned his head away from the cold stare, a stare identical to his, hidden behind kindness and compassion. "I have plenty of experience with pain, Dok, you know that..." he turned his head and matched his stare. "You know, don't you?"

"I've said this many times, friend. I didn't mean for you to get hurt," urged Dok, a whisper away from pleading.

"You're a sneak and a liar. I never asked for your help!" Zakri found himself shouting, his watery eyes beginning to leak streams down his rough cheeks. He ignored them.

"You did and you damn well know it!" retorted Dok, himself shouting. "You asked for my help, practically _begged_ for it when you radioed me that horrible night! I risked my life and career to help you, and I did it the best I could!"

"I didn't need your help, I could have made it on my own. You weren't there when he nailed me to the wall, you weren't there when I had to fight him!" His voice dropped, so low that Dok had to lean forwards slightly to hear him. "You weren't there... when I became that monster. You were hiding in the base..."

"Zakri, I'm sorry that things turned out that way for you, but I never meant for it to happen... If I could help you I could."

"You know... there is a way you could help me..." Zakri struggled as he sat up. "You could prescribe me with some... medication."

Dok understood immediately.

"No. I am not going to enable you."

Zakri slid off the table to his feet. He keeled over and grabbed his leg, waiting for the new pain to fade. After half a minute he limped forward and clutched the lapel of Dok's uniform.

"Help me... repay what you did to me, redeem me!" His sunken eyes bore into Dok's, and he began to sweat.

Dok thought for a moment, then turned and dug into an old footlocker. He retrieved a handful of pill bottles.

"Here, take these," he whispered. "And call me in the morning."

In the darkened house, Sedu sleeps calmly, unaware of his brother's turmoil. Caush leans against the kitchen table, humbled and humiliated.

"Father hates me... He _hates_ me..." he murmurs. "I brought Sedu there, I am responsible for his injuries. Who knows how bad he's hurt? Its my fault..."

He slumped over as sleep overtook him, shame swirling in his head like vultures circling over their prey, waiting for it to die.


	8. Control Part 1: The Choice

"You were wrong."

Caush looked up at Zakri, shame etched into his features.

"I know I was wrong, but... I thought it was a fluke, a miscalculation..."

"It doesn't matter, there's no need for an excuse!" Zakri breathed deep and calmed himself.

"Dok said that my wounds should be healed in a few weeks. When that happens, I'm going to train him."

Caush stood up in such earnest his chair fell backwards. He didn't notice.

"How can you train him? We should bottle away this power, force it out of our lives now, before he becomes too... too..."

"Dangerous?" Zakri finished for him. "That's exactly what we need. What Kakarotto needs. He could turn out to be a super-soldier, and end this horrible war. Destroy the rebels, end it all."

"But Father, its not safe!"

"Nothing worthwhile is..." he paused. "Where is he?"

Sedu slouched over the stone cold stone steps. The massive fortress cast its incredible shadow over him and the jungle before it. He perked as he heard the soft but urgent whisper of his father.

"Come on Sedu. Get up!" Zakri urged.

Sedu clambered to his feet and pushed open the tall and heavy doors and cautiously stepped over the threshold and into the throne room. A powerful rumbling shook him into nausea as the thousands of stones that build the castle fell away, dropping him through the thick clouds into the midst of a massive battle.

One thousand soldiers paused in their motion, and turned at him. Some were barely held together by strands of flesh, there was no way they could be alive...

Unanimously, they belt forth the cry of war and lunged at him. Sedu cowered, crying and screaming. His eyes were closed tightly, and he did not see the golden fire that surrounded him, nor the strands that broke free and grew faces of horror. The ghouls soared freely through the air, burning through the would-be attackers like embers on paper. The ghouls were silent, and all that could be heard was the painful screams of one thousand soldiers, and then only Sedu.

"Sedu, get up!" he heard his father shout. "Open your eyes and face me!"

Sedu gave in to his father's commands and looked out at the empty field with trembling eyes. He saw his father and Caush fighting mercilessly. They were clawing, biting and sneering with incredible hatred. Blood was pouring from nearly a dozen wounds criss-crossing over Zakri's body. Caush was no better; he was covered in bruises and small cuts, and his left arm looked to be broken. He wasn't finished though. Caush fired a beam from his right hand that splashed Sedu's face with searing heat. Smoke and steam hissed and billowed into the sky and across the field. When it cleared Sedu choked for a moment, then screamed in sorrow.

Zakri was behind Caush His entire left arm had been burned away by the attack, and if he hadn't dodged his whole body would be reduced to ashes. Blood spilled freely from the massive wound, and jetted occasionally. No pain showed on his face, but rage was etched into every line on his face and fuelled every twitching muscle. Using his remaining arm he dug his fingers into Caush's gut. Blood began to trickle as his insides were squeezed. With a sick grunt Zakri tore away Caush's innards, spilling them over the dead ground.

"Wake up!"

Sedu snapped awake and was met with his father's eternal stare.

"I just wanted to make sure you're alright." His tone was uncharacteristically soft, but his cold glare was unchanged. It gave Sedu chills, even though his father had had it for as long as he could remember.

"I-I'm fine, Dad..." he lied with little poise.

"Are you sure? Positive?"

"Yes," he replied with more confidence.

Zakri stared for a moment, then smiled. His face was bloody, his mouth now little more than a slash in his face, but it was relieving that he could still smile.

"That's good son. Now, go back to sleep and get some rest."

As Sedu closed his eyes and dozed off once more, Zakri's grin faded and he looked at the radar on his belt, which was miraculously undamaged in his fight. It read thirty-two-thousand, over nine-thousand higher than his own.

He left the room quietly and glanced at Caush.

"He starts in three weeks" he whispered gruffly, then headed to his own room.

Caush's narrowed eyes followed him until the wooden door creaked shut and blocked him from view.


	9. Control Part 2: The Acceptance

The days slipped into an icy winter with an unexpected ferocity. A strange phenomena of the two Suns caused the regularly dusty and tropical planet to freeze over in a matter of weeks. Snow poured from the skies constantly, burying several small dwellings, leaving young Sedu locked inside their tiny cottage with his cantankerous father and secluded brother. He did not sense the mounting tension between them, for he was only a child, inexperienced in understanding the more complex saiyan emotions. On the occasion he mustered up the courage to ask why Zakri and Caush weren't speaking as much, he was snapped at and warned to keep quiet.

Very rarely did anyone dare venture from the hovel. Zakri's wounds had healed somewhat, but pain still inflicted his legs and arms to a crippling extent, leaving him unable to force his way through the mountain of snow and ice. Without his medication, he could barely walk upright. It was well past the three weeks that he had planned for training, but secretly he was relieved. It was taking his body much longer than initially thought to get into a fighting form.

Caush, however, was very able. He had taken advantage of the snow early on, carving out a narrow tunnel that extended from his bedroom window which allowed him to escape the stuffy confines. He trained in the blizzard conditions, embracing the heavy, thick ice that built up on his limbs as a means of resistance. However, before long the conditions became too fierce for even him to withstand, and he quickly retreated back into the house.

Two months after his injury, Zakri finally faced facts: despite his best hopes, he will never regain his former glory. Weakened in a way no wound could, he sat alone in his small and cramped house and submitted himself to his own self-hate.

Their only link to the outside world was their small radio unit. It was designated for military use only, but Zakri modified it to pick up open signals. Despite the thick snow that coated the world, some transmissions were still able to get through. After a fair bit of pinpointing, Zakri discovered a few frequencies that broadcast the information he needed. The technology was still fairly new, and not many had taken to it yet, so options were limited. But what was available turned out to be very helpful in his vague plans that grew ever more complex.

The little radio also doubled as a two-way link between himself and Dok. He had not used that link for many, many years. But now was the time. The glimmer of sunlight that was creeping over the planet and through the tiny, ice-encrusted window seemed to act as a beacon of recklessness.

"Signal 7246 requesting connection signal 365, over," Zakri recited into the mouthpiece. A small hiss seemed to fill the cramped room for a moment, but ceased as a sharp voice barked out of the speaker.

"Zakri, I'm here. What's the matter?" Concern was evident in his friend's voice. Perhaps the superiors had noticed his absence and alerted him? No, that concern was an attempt to get in his head, to make him care again. But he wouldn't let that happen. He held down the switch that allowed him to transmit his message, but nothing came for several seconds. Finally he spoke.

"Dok, I need some more 'supplies'." He tried not to sound too demanding, despite his pain urging him to beg, to do whatever it takes to get relief. Silence from Dok's end. When he spoke, the concern had morphed into irritation.

"I can't do that, you know there is barely any Barba-"

"DON'T SAY THE NAME!" shouted Zakri, his eyes raking over the door as though expecting shock troopers to burst through it. "We don't know who's listening, do we?"

"No, I suppose not. But Zakri..." He sounded very stern. "There isn't much I can do for you. All I have is some extract that was taken from a chemical lab that was raided. From what I tested, its incredibly powerful, overwhelmingly so-"

Dok's further explanation was drowned out by Zakri's subconscious. A monster, nestled in the pit of his bowels, grew restless. Stronger Barban? That would be perfect. It would finally be fed to satisfaction...

"-caused abrupt insanity!" finished Dok.

"That's great. Send it over right away!" he ordered briskly, not having absorbed a word of Dok's warnings.

A pause.

"All right, it'll be at the rendezvous in two hours." Dok sounded very tired.

Zakri switched off the radio and felt a new power building inside him. The monster in his belly seemed to be giving him some of it's great strength. In three strides Zakri crossed the room to the door, pressed his full bodyweight against it and heaved with all the power he could muster. His tattered muscles swelled, his veins popped and his bones creaked as the door opened inch by inch. Through the wood he could hear the crunching of the thick snow, and felt it gave way. The momentum carried him through the open doorway and into the winter wasteland, where he slid on some ice and fell face forward in a pile of snow. 

Now that he was outside he didn't feel so mighty. His miraculous strength had vanished as quickly as it came, and wave after wave of pain crashed over him. Spitting bitterly into the frost, he carefully pushed himself to his feet and glanced around, squinting slightly as the slowly rising sun passed through the thick clouds. Nobody had seen him. He expected this, as it was far too cold for the softies that lived in the area to train. Be that as it may, it still added a micron of comfort to his ego that nobody was present to witness his frailty.

Despite the earliness of the hour, Caush lay wide awake in bed, petrified. He could have sworn he heard a distant scream, a howl of madness in the nearby forest. Fear trickled slowly through the frozen river of his conscience. His blossoming instincts, planted by the academy and watered by desperation, called for action, but his youthful fear of the unknown wilted them. Deciding it best to roll over and try to recall sleep and ignore the outside, Caush hesitantly turned and closed his eyes. No sooner had they shut then another wail rang out. It was louder, stronger and seemed closer. Clenching his eyelids so tightly they may have reduced glass to sand, the boy fought hard to block out the sounds of the morning.

It was not normal for Caush to act like this. The expansive woods behind their house was home to many strange and dangerous creatures, many of whom were blessed with terrible voices of their own. But odd things were happening, an eerie presence had cast itself among the family homestead recently, and these strange cries seemed inexplicitly linked to what his brother had dubbed 'ill-spirits'. The cries seemed to be those of great beasts, yet glimmered with a saiyan's emotions. Rampaging Oozaru made similar sounds, but there was to be no moon for months.

A third, must closer howl, and Caush wrapped himself tightly in his thin blanket; any lingering ounce of warrior in him was drained immediately.

He shook violently when he heard the entrance to the house crash open, felt the powerful footfalls of this approaching monster. Despite urging every fibre in his body to stay still, he still quivered as the bedroom door flew wide open, and his father reached Sedu's bed.

"Son ... son wake up!" His voice was hushed and subdued, but his excitement shone through. Caush could feel a distinct aura around him, one that scared him even more than howls in the night. "Get your clothes on, get ready!"

"Why?" Caush heard Sedu mumble, his voice thick and tired. A small yawn was stifled.

"Because its time to start your training!"

Sedu fell silent immediately. Caush's ears were burning, blood rushing through his brain.

"_What?_" he whispered softly, inaudible to the others.

"Now, come on son. Meet me outside in five minutes. Be prepared: This will be Hell."


End file.
